


Asgardia Quickies

by Sternflocken



Series: Welcome to the Odinsons [1]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - Fandom
Genre: Asgardia, Domestic, Drafts, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Humor, M/M, MCU based but universe alternations and some comic references?, Mpreg, Shapeshifting, Slice of Life, Thorki - Freeform, Thunderfrost - Freeform, actually just my mental trash can, female!Loki (occasionally)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-24 03:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17093099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sternflocken/pseuds/Sternflocken
Summary: Quick and dirty sketches to get ideas out of my head...cause the salty Christmas Pickle and his God of Sweetness and their wondrous monster God-baby are occupying my mind and actually I want to work on different things now. Thanks.(by quick and dirty I mean it's scribbled down quite rough and without paying any attention to details or writing style or anything at all...sorry not sorry^^'')





	1. To be or not to be...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Loki it was all fun, playing with these dumb Midgardians’ liking in gossip and tittle-tattle while turning Thor’s head in so many ways and inventing himself new as he pleased. Until Paris happend.
> 
> Rumors become facts. Against Loki’s will, but it can’t be helped. So he wears his belly with all the pride and dignity he’s able to muster and enjoys watching chaotic discourses sprouting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's no cool translation for "Schein und Sein" is there?^^''

Loki has always worn black on Midgard and he continues to do so. Why should he not?  
Black is said to cover up so for the first few months, no-one seems to notice. 

What is noticed – at least by people who they got to encounter regularly – is his appetite. As well as his sudden rushes to bathrooms and the worried looks Thor casts. 

But to most of Midgard there just are the usual rumors about the God of Thunder and the God of Mischief. It’s the rumors that had mushroomed out of thin air when the people of Asgard came for shelter in Norway and Loki somehow had not been the mad conqueror who brought alien invasions but the right hand of King Thor, ruling Asgard. Rumors had been spreading quickly for they showed up together at meetings in the New Avengers Facility or at head of states summits or at fancy charity parties of Tony Stark. Stories about Loki’s heritage had not been new and they were quickly accompanied by assumptions about the King and Prince taking their very own advantages of not being blood related since they’ve been reunited again. At least within certain circles of the internet and the yellow press. But actually, if one just wanted, it was easy to oversee the looks that are shared and the faint touches and the way they stand close to each other – closer than each of them stands to Tony Stark or T’Challa or Steve Rogers or even Stephen Strange. And oh there had been suspicions blooming about the reasons for Earth's Sorcerer Supreme to not take Loki for a threat any more! Loki in fact had spent a lot of time at the Sanctorum at the beginning of their settlement. Preparations had to be made for the safety of Midgard. Thor had been overly jealous and Loki had enjoyed that way too much and to Asgard it is quite obvious but for Midgardians Loki does make it very easy to decry every rumor as conspiracy theory or perverted fantasies of hero-fangirls while on the other hand he’s enjoying to fire them up. 

What joined in next were rumors about a mysterious black-curled, pale skinned femme fatale seen at Thor’s side at times. This came topped by Stark’s outrage about drastically increasing complaints of malfunctioning Starkphones. It did not take him long to figure out a significant coherence of these complaints and the whereabouts of Thor and Loki. However no-one ever seemed to be able to get a not-blurred picture of them and eventually hashtags like #leaveourheroesalone and #heroprivacy became a thing.

To Loki it was all fun, playing with these dumb Midgardians’ liking in gossip and tittle-tattle while turning Thor’s head in so many ways and inventing himself new as he pleased. Until Paris happend. Playful fun turned into severe panic when he realized his body was not able to change back. Thor was puzzled at first and then full of questions even Loki simply could not answer. While that was freaking Loki out, Thor just accepted the news happily. Head over heels with becoming a Daddy. 

Thor made him do the walk of shame to see their healers. For no-one of them could guess what this pregnancy would mean for the child or for Loki but all they could do was to assure him there’s a healthy child growing in a wonderfully well-functioning womb.

Months after Paris Loki’s belly is growing beyond hiding and still he is full of doubts and he does not want to be seen like that. “It’s humiliating!” He yells at Thor, who simply does not understand. He does not want the looks and not the questions and not the rumors. But they cannot be held back. It’s either being seen or causing rumors about their absence. 

 

Thor makes him see the healers regularly. Just to be sure. But it is not lessening the confusion and uncertainties. To the contrary: one time they are sure to sense a healthy little Aesir child developing and then again they speak of Jotun traits and while they are sure to have seen the buds for tiny horns last time, they are suddenly not to be found any more. At some times the child grows fast, nearly too fast for Loki‘s body to take and then again it does stay so still he fears to lose it. What stays is the inability to predict anything concerning his pregnancy.

 

Rumors become facts. Against Loki’s will, but it can’t be helped. So he wears his belly with all the pride and dignity he’s able to muster and enjoys watching chaotic discourses sprouting. 

 

The birth is not an easy one. It starts sudden and vicious. No-one had expected it to be without complications but still the agonies Loki has to endure and his inability to help, being damned to wait to Loki’s tortured screams and healers rushing in and out are overpowering Thor’s optimism. It’s the worst night of his life until a small, squirming bundle is thrusted to his arms and his gaze falls upon rosy skin and blue eyes and blonde fluff of hair. It feels like the happiest night of his life when he finally is allowed to get back to Loki, laying the child into his arms, pressing a kiss onto his damp forehead, just to find Loki’s gaze baffled at a suddenly blue skinned baby that blinks at them with green eyes, changing the color of fine hair to deep black. And back to blonde. 

“Oh Norns… a shapeshifter…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops... xD
> 
> (I'm sorry if you've read through this... but I'm glad if anyone actually has as much fun with this as I do^^''  
> I actually only just need to post it to let go of these ideas... cause once they're scribbled and postet I don't go back to them every few minutes to edit and embellish and write on...)
> 
> <3


	2. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what happens in Paris...
> 
> ... does not always stay in Paris.

Loki enjoys setting up quests for Thor. Like just leaving, with only a flight ticket and mysterious notes for Thor to follow. And oh it is so much fun to watch the mighty Warrior King of Asgard, victor of numerous battles, still totally lost in the turmoil of a Midgardian airport. Not to mention his odyssey through the French Metro. Oh the troubles of only been given a few cryptic numbers and directions to find the right hotel… 

His room shows no sign of Loki but is already prepared with a touristic guide of exquisite bars. Still it takes Thor three days to get the idea that a bar named Mephisto might possibly be a good place to search for Loki.

To be fair, to expect he’d get the clue of that painting hanging near the table where the stunning black curled appearance sat seemingly alone and just waiting for him to come over was risky. But him not asking for a number has been pretty dumb, too, so Loki lets him dangle. It is too amusing to watch him run back to that bar, just to find that table empty or already occupied for several days in a row. Takes Thor a week until he finally askes that barkeeper – who’s kind of his new best buddy by then, beside the receptionist at his hotel and the old man sitting on the table next to him every morning at the breakfast buffet – about the beauty he had met and to get a little suspicious when the only thing this man remembers appears to be the fact the table was picked just for the view on the painting.

Turns out to be a copy of a pretty famous one at the Louvre. Loki has to make sure to teach him some culture, right?  
Too bad Loki is nowhere to be found there and Thor finds himself forced to spend the day with art and with racking his brain to somehow figure out what he has to do here to get another clue. Involves a few very interesting chats, including a whole school class of kids who recognize him as the God of Thunder and want to take selfies and some very nice Lady explaining to him some of the paintings – but has no clue which one a pretty much self-centered, overly dramatic and witchy trickster goth, who likes to turn into snakes, would like – and theorizing about muscle building with a museum guard as well as disappointing a granny who vows he looks like her Australian grandson…

Well, there appears to be an establishment coincidentally named like the painting. Thor only finds out when someone forces a flyer into his hand. So he actually hasn’t even earned the sight of long legs in high heels and Loki’s scantily dressed curves putting on a show. Kept out of his reach in a cage and Loki enjoys this irony and indulges in the unshared attention and desire he perceives. 

“Oh… there seems to be more than one big tower in this town tonight…” a girl whispers into Thor’s ear, running her skilled hands down his chest, her gaze at the bulge of his pants. It distracts Thor’s attention just for a tiny moment but instantly the sinful dancer is gone, to Thor’s bewilderment. It fills Loki’s heart with pride when Thor turns the girl down nevertheless – not that anything else had to be expected. “Oh my dear but I’d so like to climb that-,“ the girl calls after him, pouting as he is already leaving. Too bad no-one there remembers the dancer he asks for. 

Apparently Thor is able to learn and is rewarded with meeting his desired when he shows up at the Eiffel Tower the next day, including a coffee date and a sappy couple day – without any new friends for Thor! But with a phone number as reward. Loki chuckles at the puzzled look on Thor’s face when passing him the number and kissing him goodbye on his cheek. To be honest, it is kind of mean for Thor surely, almost rightfully even, suspects the game to be won after the coffee and the city walking and the shopping and the being together. 

Would be too easy if it was a number leading him to Loki, wouldn’t it? But at that point Thor is sure to have figured out the rules and does not question why he ends up calling the manager of some fancy club. Instead he takes his chance to make a reservation and to make sure that if a stunning woman, most beautiful face and gorgeous black curls and surely dressed in black and gold, going by the title “my Lady” should make an appearance there, she would instantly be guided to the VIP lounge and provided the finest Champagne. Well, there are several black-curled women at that lounge that evening. And Thor pays a lot of money for champagne. And Loki has to make sure to cause many paparazzi cameras to fuck up that night, even though not even making an appearance. It doesn’t take Loki much effort to meddle with the minds of these already swanky and disgustingly arrogant high society snobs to make everybody’s-friend-Thor almost lose faith in humanity.

Turns out this is not the only club owned by the phone number guy. Thor finds out just in time to make it to the concert of this Midgardian’s bards – ‘band’ they called it, right? – he had taken a liking in since they had settled on this planet.   
“Actually you don’t even deserve this. You’re such a dumb oaf for being that careless!” Loki greets him there. Draped on a barstool, drink in his hand, curves dressed in tight black ripped jeans and a shirt that Thor immediately recognizes as his own, the group’s name in bold letters right across Loki’s breasts, the seam tied to a knot to somehow make it fitting. Or to make it reveal some skin. And Thor would have not thought that, but like this Loki appears to be so much more appealing than when playing the classy lady or the barely dressed dancer and it is so hard to even pay attention to the band playing – and all the nice people he could meet – when he’s got Loki right here. This time he makes sure Loki does not escape. No, this night his beloved is going to pay for stalling him and chasing him and starving him and Loki gladly does. 

 

“End of the game.” Thor breathes into Loki’s ear, holding the naked body he enjoyed in every way possible – without taking that shirt off for as long as possible – caged in his arms. He had never wanted Loki to take this form but of course Loki had not cared about his opinion. And now he can’t deny he took his liking in it, too. Loki’s body is smaller in this form, softer, curvy like the waves of long hair. Loki's playful and flirtatious, indecent and frivolous even, but with a tongue just as sharp and a mind just as witty as ever. “You stay here. And tomorrow we will get your things,” Thor demands.  
“Oh dear… don’t you think my room would be much more… pleasant?” Loki chuckles, the husky voice sending shivers down Thor’s spine. Once again.   
“Your room?” He asks puzzled. Not one minute he had thought about where Loki might be staying…  
“Where do you think I’m staying while waiting for you to wind your sturdy mind around my hints? For sure not at such a… shack.” Loki ends the discussion with another kiss. “But you did notice the Grand Hotel down the street, yes?” Loki answers the questions in Thor’s gaze, “No wonder you did find not even one of the infinity stones,” Loki adds snickering, shutting Thor up before he can even protest. No, Loki is not intending to escape again. They could afford another few days off here… 

 

When they get back home, Loki assumes his nausea is caused by the food of this shabby hotel Thor insisted on staying in, cause of the oh so nice people there… or by the flight. Never had that but there’s always a first time, right? Midgardian planes are so inconvenient and their pilots clearly inept amateurs. Thor is not really worried until Loki steps out of the bathroom, large and slender and his features sharp again but with a pale face and anxious eyes and a shaking hand placed at the belly. “Something’s… not right…” Loki breathes, panic stricken. “It didn’t work properly, not completely, I mean, there’s something-… I feel like-” Loki tries to explain, before turning on the heels, running back to the bathroom…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...just in case you wondered... you're welcome^^''  
> and thank you!  
> (yes... THAT song is playing in my mind now... and don't forget to consider the coconuts...)


	3. Christmas Pickle and the God of Sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You don’t want to wear THAT,” he asks with a disgusted glance at Thor’s pullover._  
>  “Oh of course. I told you, it’s called Christmas jumper and it is the traditional Christmas garb of Midgard,” Thor explains, beaming and his head almost as red as the ugly pullover he’s wearing.
> 
> [Christmas Pickle and the God of Sweetness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16920480) \- **the sequel!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I saw [this sweet piece of art on twitter](https://twitter.com/sdnht/status/1075397359712972806) and Thor had to get a Christmas jumper^^
> 
> plus the delicious dinner ideas of woodelf and TheAngryKimchi and my notes-stuff from the Christmas Pickle... somehow they had to be brought together and now it won't get any better by lying around xD

“You might want to get changed NOW. Your guests will be here soon.” Loki gripes, munching on the jellied herring he just stole, already on his way back to the couch while Thor is very busy in the kitchen. Thor’s Christmas feasting idea. Thor’s problem. Loki finally gave in at some point. Not without pointing out that he’d accept this but he’d hate every minute of it.

“Yes, I do know that and I am already in my feasting gown.” Thor states, hastily looking around cookbooks and cutting things and stirring stuff. And Loki hesitates. Turning around again.  
“You don’t want to wear THAT,” he asks with a disgusted glance at Thor’s pullover.  
“Oh of course. I told you, it’s called Christmas jumper and it is the traditional Christmas garb of Midgard,” Thor explains, beaming and his head almost as red as the ugly pullover he’s wearing. A red naffness with stars and snowflakes knitted in and the most stupid personification of a pile of frozen water Loki ever could imagine. Only Midgardians could be that stupid and primitive to sculpt themselves from snow and then do it in such an unapt way and still worship their clumsy attempts by knitting idols of their doings onto their attire and hanging pendants and pictures and singing songs about it… 

“But I don’t see you wearing the one I brought. In that shop for expecting mothers they said it should fit until the ninth month because it is extra stretchy and really comfortable,” Thor brags in his most advertising commercial voice. Yeah… Loki remembers, flinching. Thor bought that fir green monstrosity. And he showed him oh so proudly beaming. And Loki tossed it somewhere into their closet cause he would never ever wear that! He’d much rather eat this reindeer and its fawn than wearing it unshapely stretching over his belly. All black is good enough. So he just lets Thor babble on about how cute this jumper would look on him and how he needs to adapt just a little sometimes and how he should make sure to really behave for Brunnhilde would bring a fair maiden around and they had to make a good impression cause otherwise she would never ever find someone to stay with… Loki does not really listen but moves his belly and his aching back plodding back to his couch to the cup of hot chocolate Thor made for him between whittling vegetables and kneading some kind of dough. 

His peace doesn’t last long. Way too soon for his liking the doorbell is heard and Thor calls for him to let their guests in. “YOUR guests!” Loki emphasizes. “And I am pregnant!”  
“Indeed. Not ill and perfectly fine to walk,” Thor calls back.  
“The baby could freeze!”  
“It’s probably at least half Jotun, it won’t!”  
“I could catch a cold and endanger its health!”  
“You’re full Jotun, on the inside, you won’t!” Rumbling and clatter is heard from the kitchen. “Loki. I implore you to be so kind to receive our guests like it is fitting for the Prince of Asgard, while I may finish the dinner,” Thor tries again, sweetly alluring. “Or else we won’t have anything to eat today!” he adds.  
“Oh well… I’m on my way…” Loki gripes but straightens the black turtle-neck while he walks to the door. 

“Be welcomed, dear guests, to the royal house of Asgard. Please tread in to our modest shelter and feel all at home…” He beams as he opens the door, voice sopping with sarcasm. “And make sure to take your shoes off or you’ll be the one to wipe the floors.”  
“What’s wrong with you, frosty Princess? You drunk or something? I thought you’re not allowed to drink?” Brunnhilde enters with a puzzled look, trusting a bottle into his hand.  
“It’s always a delight to welcome you, my dear lady.” Loki stirs on. “And you brought eggnog. How thoughtful.”  
“Yeah… Merry Christmas, Happy Yule or whatever it is nowadays.”  
At least the Valkyrie and her snow-blonde companion would be the only guests today. And so they are led into the kitchen for Thor to great them, too. 

“So, guys, this is Elsa,” Brunnhilde begins to introduce after a perfectly sweet comment on Thor’s jumper, “Elsa, this is Thor, King of Asgard but never mind, he’s actually just a big Oaf, and Loki, his boyfriendbrother-“  
“It’s Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson, the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief-” he interferes, not caring to hide how annoyed he actually still is over guests and her introduction and everything. “Never mind his nagging, he’s not fat, this is pregnant.” Brunnhilde explains pretty much unimpressed as Elsa looks at Loki with full force pity instantly. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She emphasizes and Loki is totally startled someone for once since he’s growing this monster in his belly is not either disgusted or totally confused or even worse, congratulating him, but getting how it actually feels like. So he just raises a very interested eyebrow. If he had not promised to hate every minute of this evening he could potentially be playing with the idea to accept this person as reasonable human being, even worth talking to. “Well… never mind… I hope Thor is done with dinner soon or I’ll starve.” So he shows them to the dining room (not without sneaking a jar of pickles, just in case), aka living room where Thor had set up a huge tree and had cluttered that poor thing with masses of glittery golden and red trumpery. Slyly betraying sleeping Loki. And damn, that baby-building was so incredibly exhausting he really does not notice anything when he’s asleep! Thor had not really expected him to be happy about this when he gleefully presented his doings to him the next morning, had he?

But at least he turned out to be a very good cook here on Midgard! Especially since Loki’s longing for food is drastically increasing.  
Of course Thor does not serve the dishes he prepared as a menu. No, everything is laden on the broad table – just like in the old days – and toasts are said. Loki and Elsa select small portions of roasted ham and salted lamb ribs and mashed rutagbas to their plates and top that with a blob of sauce and neatly start to operate with silver wear, while Thor and Brunnhilde dig their hands into the delicacies in front of them, joyfully groping sheep head and fatty pork ribs, digging their teeth into the meat. Elsa plainly sights and Loki flinches, but lets them have their way. Until the first bone is thrown.  
“What in the name of the Allfather are you doing?!” Loki snarls at these barbaric manners but they just look at him all innocent.  
“This is a feast, right?” Thor beams.  
“And who’s the one speaking of integrating again?!” Loki grumbles back. “And you remember THERE ARE NO MAIDS cleaning up your mess?!”  
“Oh don’t be such a party pooper, pickle Princess!” Brunnhilde exclaims, dropping a thick sausage onto Loki’s plate with a dirty grin. “Just eat already!”  
“You’ll so be on cleaning duty…” Loki murmurs but eventually the greedy monster in his belly turns him into a weak-willed trougher and Thor carefully avoids to look at him as he shoves the sausage into his mouth…

Of course the eggnog is not the only high-proof liquid that is served that evening. Elsa politely declines for she’s ought to drive, causing Brunnhilde to rant about these stupid useless Midgardian laws. “I fly fucking spacecraft with more alcohol in my blood than any of these weak humans could even survive and I did even capture the God of Thunder totally wasted, if you remember that, it’s such a funny story by the way, remember me to tell you that, Els, and here I’m not even allowed to steer a stupid lame car when I drank like nothing!”

So Thor and Brunnhilde at first start to brag about all their glorious heroic and not so heroic adventures but Loki and Elsa are gradually withdrawing from their babbling as Loki actually dares to ask what she is doing when she’s not currently babysitting that drunk booze hag. Turns out Elsa’s a high renowned meteorologist and social scientist, currently researching for her thesis on climate change, focusing on the coherencies of declining snow with the moods of individuals and their effects on complex societies. Or course Loki has his very own opinions about snow and ice and human society and eventually they get caught in a heated but highly sophisticated discussion about humankind and what Mary’s little lamb has got to do with Japanese Kabuki and Star Wars and what that is telling about the rule-ability of humans. Thor and Brunnhilde lose track about the thought trains of Loki and Elsa at the point where they’re discussing why a raven is like a writing desk and end up just drinking their ignored asses away. They get thrown out without a word but just a swift blow of Loki’s magic when they are tired of bawling Asgardian war songs and come up with the glorious idea of comparing their food-baby-bellies to Loki’s baby bump and start mimicking him. They are not let back in until they decide to not only talk about strength and combat skills but seek proof to who’s the better warrior by fighting each other and threaten to smash half of Norway into pieces by doing so. 

(And no matter how drunken Thor may be, he does not forget about the mistletoe he did hang so eagerly in their air trap and makes sure to urge upon them the appreciation of that Midgardian’s ritual that Loki successfully and very deliberately had ignored all day.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also saw the new Grinch movie xD it's so great! Such a glorious soundtrack and so funny and just so easy to watch after all the IW and Fantastic Beasts drama^^''  
> and guess what?... it's basically Loki xD
> 
> So I hope you had some nice Holidays <3  
> and thank you for reading^^


End file.
